


Arbitrage in the Young Girl Market

by Sterling (SterlingSmith)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Extremely Underage, F/M, First Time, Lolita, Oral Sex, Pedophilia, Penis In Vagina Sex, Social Commentary, buying brides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 02:46:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19142005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SterlingSmith/pseuds/Sterling
Summary: Layla finds out that being sold to a British pedophile is a much better life than having her private parts mangled and living the life of a woman in her native Islamic nation.





	Arbitrage in the Young Girl Market

Arbitrage, n. "Arbitrage is the practice of taking advantage of a price difference between two or more markets: striking a combination of matching deals that capitalize upon the imbalance." 

\---------------------------------------------------------

Layla was five years old and she was hungry. They were all hungry, her parents, her brother Mohammed, and her four sisters, two older and two younger. She heard her parents arguing.

And then one morning her mother was combing the hair of 10-year-old Aisha and 12-year-old Gamila and getting them into their nicest clothes. Her father appeared with a white man -- a European.

Her father motioned the two of them forward and they came shyly. Her father mentioned a price.

"What's going on?" Layla asked Mohammed.

"Papa's gonna sell Aisha or Gamila so we can eat. If he gets that much for her we'll eat well!"

The European smiled and shifted from foot to foot, then he pointed to Layla.

Her mother gasped and her father hesitated, but Mohammed pushed her forward. Layla had not had her hair combed and was wearing her ordinary clothes which were none too clean.

"Twice as much, for her!" said the European.

"Deal," said her father after only the briefest hesitation, not looking at Layla.

Her sisters and mother looked stunned and grief-stricken and stooped over to hug her and look at her with deep sorrow.

"Come on, enough of that!" said her father. "She's not part of our family any more."

Her mother and sisters reluctantly fell back, and her brother led her forward.

The European smiled at her and took her hand, and off they walked. Layla heard the wails of her sisters and mother grow softer as they got further away. Mohammed raced past them on the path with empty sacks and a bill in his hand, going to buy food no doubt.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Memories came flooding back to Layla as she approached the village.

Gamila screamed. "It's Layla! She's back!"

There was much commotion, but soon her family was gathered around, though her father was not at home.

Accompanying Layla were four European men. Three of them were muscular soldiers in camouflage fatigues, and constantly scanned their surroundings.

Layla had been gone two years. Gamila and Aisha and her younger brother all looked noticeably older, and she supposed she did too.

"Oh, Layla, I'm so sorry," said her mother, falling to her knees. "I would never have sold you even if we all starved to death!" and she began sobbing.

Mohammed spoke harshly. "Remember what our father said, she's not part of our family any more. She's a whore and a slut and a stain on our honor."

"She's still *my* sister!" said Gamila, glaring at her brother.

Layla interrupted. "I've learned family honor is way overrated. And thanks, mother, you don't have to worry about that. It's actually worked out very well. I'm very happy."

Her family looked at her, puzzled.

"We're going to have a meeting tonight. All the girls in the village are invited. Ones who aren't married."

\--------------------------

A hundred girls were assembled. A the front of the room were two chairs. One of the men occupied one chair, and Layla occupied the other. The soldiers stood.

Layla and the man in the chair smiled at each other, then she rose to begin her talk.

"As most of you know, my father sold me to a European two years ago. Our family was very hungry, and I don't blame him.

"I was frightened, of course. But the man was nice to me. There was plenty of food, and I ate a lot for many days. He bought me new clothes. We walked, road in a bus, and took boats and a plane and then I was in London. It is a very different place, cold but also very rich.

"In the big house there were three older girls who are also from this country, and they helped me adjust to things. I was afraid I would meet a lot of men who would hurt me between the legs, but they explained it wasn't like that. Yes, things would happen between my legs, but there was no hurting, and it was going to be just one man -- it turned out to be Paul, here beside me. He's my husband, and he's the nicest man you could imagine."

She turned to smile at him.

"Here, if you're a girl, when you get big enough, adult women cut your private parts. It bleeds and hurts a lot and sometimes girls die."

Many girls in the audience shifted position uncomfortably.

"And why do they hurt you like that? It's done so you don't feel pleasure when you have sex. Then your father will arrange a marriage with some man, who expects you to obey him without question and do all the work around the house. And you have to have sex with him whenever he wants, and even if you think you have enough children he still has sex with you and you have more children."

She switched to a softer tone.

"In London, it's different. I was told I got to pick my husband, even though I was just five years old! Three grown men came to talk with me, one after another. They were all nice, but Paul was the nicest. So I picked him. We'd take walks. He asked me what I wanted. He got me a new dress and a doll and things to go with the doll. I said I missed my family and he listened. Before long I was crying and he just held me in his arms. He was nicer to me than anyone here ever was. Soon we started spending time at his house. When I was at his house he cooked and did the dishes. He got me more clothes, dolls, and toys.

"He said we'd be like husband and wife and do the things they do. So he kissed me, and we slept together at night and he hugged me. I asked when the sex would happen. When was he going to stick it in me? He said he hoped I'd be willing to do that some day, but not yet. I found out there's a lot of ways a man and girl can touch each other that feel good. I let him lick my body all over. It felt good! I let him lick me between the legs. It felt really good! Instead of wanting to make sure I never felt anything good down there, he wanted to make sure I did! And before long I had this amazing good feeling that came in waves."

She paused and looked off into space, a vague smile on her face. Then she remembered where she was and continued talking.

"He said that was an orgasm. Little girls can have orgasms, you know. And so can women if they don't get cut down there. Now I really liked the sexy play. I looked forward to having him lick my privates and we did it a lot.

"I got to know his penis. It got hard whenever we did sexy stuff together. He showed me how the sperm comes out when he's excited, and how I could rub it to make the sperm come out, and how to suck it and make it come out in my mouth. That was a little weird but OK because I knew it made him feel so good. So then he said that if I had some surgery down there then he could stick his penis in me and it would feel even better for him and I'd like it a lot too. 

"I asked about bleeding and pain, and they said it was nothing like what happens here. They did it in a clinic with everything very clean and things that make you numb so it doesn't hurt. And it didn't! They made my vagina big enough so Paul's penis would fit in, but also so I could still feel good.

"And then after I was all healed up they told me my body was ready. But I wasn't sure I was ready. A week went by and Paul waited patiently, and he still gave me orgasms with his tongue and I sucked his penis and rubbed it and made the stuff come out. He joked that if I let him stick it in me the stuff would go right inside me and it wouldn't be so messy. We laughed about that, but I decided I was ready.

"I figured he'd just stick it in, but he said it would feel better if he first licked me to a big orgasm, so he did, and only then did he stick it in me. It was big but it didn't hurt. And it felt good! It felt good down there when he pumped it in and out, and then I saw his face get so happy when he shot his sperm out. The happy face and relaxing was the only way I knew he had shot it out because it all went up inside me and didn't make a mess!

"I was so relieved and it felt so good that when he asked to do it again an hour later I said yes. That time he licked me until I was almost ready to have an orgasm, and then he stuck his penis in, and that felt almost as good as his tongue felt good. And he got more and more excited and so did I, and then when he shot his sperm out I had an orgasm too, at the same time!

"We did it five, six times a day for the first week, then it got less. He always asks me and if I don't want to he doesn't, but that's not very often. Now and then I ask him and he's delighted to do it to me."

Layla stared off into space again, smiling.

Paul rose and whispered in her ear.

Layla laughed. "Paul doesn't know much of our language, but he knows the words for 'sex' and 'orgasm' and 'stick it in'. And he says I should talk about other things too, not just the sex. The sex is fun, and talking about it is fun, but he's right. But I sure hope he wants to stick it in me as soon as we get to our tent..."

Layla looked up with a more serious expression.

"Now I go to school. I know English. I can read. I have English friends from school over and I go to their houses. There's always plenty to eat, all kinds of food. There's books and music and the internet, and fun places to go in the city. A couple times a week a woman from the center I went to originally visits to make sure I'm happy, but I also volunteer to go there and help the new girls feel at home and hear our language.

"I do chores around the house, but he does more than I do.

"Women in London can go out dressed any way they want. No veils or covering up. And if a man touches a woman in a way she doesn't like, he goes to jail. Most of the men don't WANT to touch a woman who doesn't want it. They care what we think and what we want!

"Paul says when I get old enough to have a baby they'll give me special medicine to make sure I don't at first. I'll get to keep going to school.

"He says when I'm 18 I get to choose almost everything. I could come back to this country, but I'm not going to do THAT! If I stay in London, I can leave him and be all on my own or marry some other man. If I want I can work at a job doing interesting and challenging things, like any other woman over there. But I won't leave him. I love him."

She turned and leaned over and kissed him briefly on the lips.

"And then whenever we both want a baby they'll stop the thing that keeps me from having one. Now I think I'll want three, but I can change my mind. My sons and daughters will grow up with plenty to eat and get to have all the choices I have. 

"They have this rule in England that usually men can't have sex with girls until they're at least 16 years old. It's part of the same thing of caring about the girls and wanting the very best for them, but I think they can go too far -- anyway, they figure that some of us girls here might think it's better than the lives we have here, so they let us choose it if we want.

"Most men in England are like men here, who don't want to stick it in girls until they're older. But it used to make men like Paul very sad because they couldn't ever stick it in anyone. And England's a big place so there are lots of men like Paul. And they would also like to marry a young girl like me -- or like you! And they will think they're incredibly lucky and treat you like a queen almost.

"I didn't have any choice at first, but I do now. I could stay here now but I don't want to. But you have a choice, and even if you change your mind later, you can go back to live here.

"So... you get to choose. You can stay here, have them cut your private parts so you never feel any pleasure, be a slave to men, cover yourself up all the time, have more babies than you want, and always worry about being hungry. Or you can come to England where they want you to feel pleasure between the legs, think you're equal to men and get to make your own choices, dress any way you want, only have the babies you want when you want them, get an education as good as boys get and decide how you want to live.

"And as part of the deal, you'll get to choose some nice man like Paul -- they only let the nice ones in -- who will think you are the most wonderful and precious person in the world and be nicer to you than even your mother is here. If your sisters or friends come along too, you can visit them sometimes, and call or text or email any time.

"So you girls get to decide for yourselves what you want to do. These soldiers behind me make sure your fathers can't stop you if you want to go."

\---------------------------------------------------------

The next morning the village assembled. On one side was a line with all the men and boys and women. On the other was Layla, Paul, and the soldiers, now carrying rifles. Layla then asked the girls to come out and form a line in the middle between them. There were 103 of them.

"Now you get to choose. Come to England or stay here."

The girls looked back and forth. One girl walked back to the other villagers, then another and another.

"Ha, I knew it!" said one of the men. "They know where they belong."

Then a girl ran to Layla, then another and another.

An anxious murmur arose among the villagers.

"Hey!" shouted one of the men, pointing to a girl in the middle. "You come back over here this minute! No more delays!"

A couple more girls ran back to the village.

Then a girl of ten who had run to join Layla said in a clear voice, "Why do I get the feeling that you girls in the middle are going to get a beating for staying there so long?"

"They deserve it!" shouted a man with clenched fists.

And then a few girls ran to Layla's group, and a few more, and then the entire rest of the group, including all four of Layla's sisters.

The men shouted and women wailed.

One girl of age six who had run to join the villagers broke away and sprinted to Layla's group.

Another started to break away but was grabbed by her father, who began hitting her hard on the bottom.

"Hey!" said Layla, and spoke sharply to the soldiers.

But the soldiers had seen too and were already on their way forward. They stopped in the middle where the girls had been.

Looking at the soldiers, the father stopped beating the girl, seething, then let her go. The girl raced to Layla, sobbing.

One other girl from the village tried to bolt. Her father caught her, but only for a second when he saw the eyes of the soldiers turn to him.

Then everything became calm and the soldiers withdrew. Of the 103 girls who had stood in the middle, 83 were now with Layla.

"How can we go on if you take all our girls?" cried a woman.

Layla said, "We didn't take them! They chose for themselves! And I'll tell you how." Then she screamed, "START TREATING THEM BETTER!!"

And with that, Layla turned, took Paul's hand and led him quickly away from the village. The other girls followed. The soldiers came last.


End file.
